Gifted and Taken
by scarleteyes21
Summary: Stiles always regretted never saying goodbye to his mom, never having the chance to tell her he's sorry, and now he has been given the chance to tell her everything. But what is the price going to be for having such a special gift?
1. Chapter 1

Gifted and Taken

Stiles hated waiting in the forest while the others went running through the woods during the full moon, it had been somewhat of an unplanned tradition for the last eight months or so (_okay, so 'tradition wasn't the right word to use here_): while the alpha and pups play and frolic in the woods (_again "play and frolic" weren't the right words to use)_ Stiles had the honor of sitting in a tree, listening to music on his I-phone while he waited for the others.

In a way he was okay with this. Both Danny and Lydia had received the bite from Derek (_Danny because he wanted to and Lydia because she and Jackson both wanted to_ (_The fifth time was apparently the charm_), but he never asked Derek or Scott for the bite. Peter had asked him numerous amounts of times if he wanted to be a werewolf. But the answer was always the same. "No."

He didn't receive any encouragement from the others, Scott wouldn't have wished his curse onto anybody and Derek probably found him too annoying to be an "official" pack member. (_If he had to equate the pack to Buffy the Vampire Slayer-he would more than likely be Giles…or maybe Xander-no Xander was _actually_ part of the group throughout the whole series and he got the girls. Most of the time, but still. Or maybe he was a bit of both?_). Part of him thought being a werewolf was cool and all, but another part of him always felt cold towards the idea of being a werewolf (_Not like he hated the idea of being a wolf, it's just he would actually get cold, like shiver_.)

He was looking though his list of music when he saw something sparkle and fall in his peripheral view. He looked down to see something gold and small struggling to keep up, what looked like to be wings flapping frantically in order not to crash. (_No way! That was not what he thought it was!)_

He looked around; looking out for any of the pack members (_Derek could never promise him that they wouldn't kill him during their full moon hunt. Way to go team! Let's all kill Giles/Xander…God, he was Andrew, wasn't he?_) before he jumped down from the branch, landing a bit rough on the dirt ground.

He staggered over to the gold flying thing, it wasn't a fairy like he originally thought _(Hey, they could exist-the team had had run in with witches, large snake like women, and mer-people (No, do not walk down that lovely memory of almost drowning in the lake before Boyd had to pull you out)) _but an orb. It almost looked transparent but effervescent. Stiles could have sworn it was speaking to him, giving a buzz of energy that was calming him down.

It was weird.

He _never_ felt calm.

Even with all the medication he had to take for his ADHD, he never felt calm-like he could sit and think of something, just one thing or think of nothing at all.

It felt nice, almost.

It looked like it was struggling to fly up to meet with Stile's line of vision. It blinked off and on.

"Hey, are you okay?" Stiles asked, he didn't feel ridiculous asking something that no face, body, or voice if it was okay. He had seen weirder things. "Are you-Are you hurt or something?" He looked to see if the orb had a crack or something.

The orb buzzed louder, maybe frighten by him?

Stiles smiled a bit, "I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me when I say this I'm the least scariest thing in this forest right now. You should be more scared of flowers than me." Stiles quipped, remembering two weeks ago when he and Scott had to save Lydia, Allison, and Erica from a deadly plant that took over the bodies of girls who were in love.

(_Let the Erica and Boyd love ship set sail_!)

"Can-Is there any way I can help you? I don't know if you can talk. Can you actually talk?" Stiles moved his hand close to the orb but it flew back from his touch. He didn't know why he was so hurt by that. "I'm not, I can't hurt you. I just wanna see if you're okay."

The orb seemed to understand, it flew around Stiles slowly before hovering in front of his face again. It was blinking more now and it looked almost more heavy, as if the orb's wings (_It looks like a snitch, or like a snitch got in on with a snow globe or something_) couldn't hold up its body up anymore. Apparently the orb seemed to really trust Stiles now because it buzzed closer to him. As if it was asking for Stiles to touch it again.

Stiles frowned; he didn't know what the thing was or what it could do. He should have ran or went back up in his tree and ignore the thing. But something was telling him (_The orb, it can talk_!) to trust the orb. He bit his lip, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." He gingerly touched the orb with the tips of his fingers before resting his entire hand on it.

It all happened fast then.

He felt something zap through his arms into his entire body, something that felt hot and cold at the same time before it hit his heart _(He was going to die? Wasn't he? Of all the things to die from, death by weird glowing orb/snitch? It couldn't have been death by vampire (wait they weren't real, were they? God, they better not be real!) or death by wolf bite_. _And he was still a virgin!_) and he could feel his head burn. It felt as if something had splashed scalding hot water onto him. Then he heard a loud snarl and growl and looked up to see Isaac landing right onto the orb, smashing it into pieces.

"NO!" Stiles yelled out, almost running to orb. It had lost its color and its wing were now just bones before Isaac smashed it. "What did you do?!" Stiles yelled before realizing that wasn't the best thing to do or say in front of Isaac.

(_Correction: Totally werewolfed out and wants to tear out your throat with his teeth Isaac_)

"Aw crap!" Stiles groaned, running his fingers through his hair before slipping a bit (_Why? Why did he always have to slip when he was in danger? Was this the universe's way of saying "Screw you!"? Because that made sense_.) and climbing up his tree frantically. He barely made it, he felt Isaac take a swipe for his leg, taking a good chuck of the fabric of his pants. "Damn it!" Stiles swore as felt a slight sting-Isaac scratched him, but it was hardly harmful-it didn't even break the skin. He felt relieved to know that he didn't have a chance of turning into a werewolf (_Oh my God, if Isaac was the one to give him the" bite" he would have to spend his whole entire werewolf life consoling his "maker" (Werewolves used those sort of terms, don't they? Or am I thinking of vampires again?_)).

He looked down to see Isaac circling the tree. He thought for a moment he saw him shake, maybe remembering that he shouldn't have attacked Stiles. Isaac looked down at the crushed orb and then looked up at Stiles. A small smile forming on his face.

(_Also known as Stiles is screwed, big time_!)

"Damn it!" Stiles swore softly as he realized that Isaac was walking backwards, planning to jump into the tree to rip Stiles into shreds. "Dude, if you eat me you do realize you're going to feel guilty like hell for the rest of your life? Not to mention Scott will never talk to you again, although on the other hand Derek might make you co-alpha leader or something for finally getting rid of me." Stiles sighed as he imagined Derek giving Isaac a _hug _for killing him.

He could see Isaac backing up and getting ready for the attack. Stiles tried to think of anything he could to save himself. He knew yelling was pointless since the others were so wolfed out of their minds that they would think Stiles yells where a good thing (_screams of death from people or animals equated food for pack later…see good thing!_). Stiles was counting the seconds of his final breath when he saw Derek jump, tackle, and pin Isaac to the ground. Wolf-Derek growled and roared at Isaac, leading the other boy to whimper in fear and run fast.

Stiles didn't know whether to be thankful or be even more freaked out because wolf-Derek could still kill him _(Let's face it, wolf-Derek and not wolf-Derek could kill him. Point of the lesson: Derek wants Stiles dead_). "Um, thank you?" Stiles lamented over his voice cracking in fear. He saw wolf-Derek scowl at him (_What else was new? _)

Wolf-Derek snorted (_Could werewolves do that? He had seen dogs sort of snort.(It could happen_!)) and growl softly up at him. Stiles wasn't fluent in wolf growl and howls, but he knew Derek well enough (_Wow, did he really just admit that to himself? That he knew Derek well enough?! (God, I've gotta find new friends!_)) to know that meant "You're an idiot. Stay out of sight or I will kill you." He raised his brows and shrugged as Derek let out another snarl and ran back in the same direction Isaac had.

Stiles looked down at the ground again to see the remain of the orbs still scattered and broken. He frowned and didn't even realize he was crying until he felt slight shiver go through him. He looked down at his phone. "Three more hours till sun up." He could leave in an hour or so.

It was only a few minutes later when he had his headphones back in did he realize someone was walking in the woods. Alone.

"What the hell?" Stiles squinted his eyes to see if he could a better look at the person. But before he could get a better look at the person, they disappeared. Stiles leaned back against the tree and breathed out.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't see that." He looked up at the sky. "You have a sick sense of humor, you know that?"

_Later that morning…_

"STILES! WAKE UP! YOU'RE GOINGTO BE LATE!" His father yelled before slamming the front door loudly

Stiles groaned into pillow and he didn't want to open his eyes. He just knew that the sun was out, it was probably a beautifully balmy day outside (_Screw you California weather_!). He got up, stretching out the kinds and knots in his muscles before looking at his clock and sighing "Wonder if the teacher would actually buy the excuse, my pet wolves ate my homework and kept me up?" Stiles shook his head and walked past the dark curly haired woman sitting in his chair.

He should have been scared, usually he was freaking terrified.

But this time he wasn't.

Because he knew the woman sitting in his chair.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, giving himself two painful pinches before deciding he was wide awake and lucid.

"Not dreaming and I'm praying to whatever is up there that I'm not hallucinating or OD'ing again on something."

The woman's large doe-brown eyes widened as she realized Stiles could actually see her. "Stiles? You can see me?"

Stiles gulped the large lump forming in his throat. His eyes stung and his vision was becoming blurry with tears. He licked his lips, "Yeah, mom, I can see you."

His mom smiled, tears streaming down her face as she got up and walked closer to him, "I-I can't believe this." She paused and laughed, causing Stiles to gasp and hold his hands to his heart in order to keep it inside his chest cavity.

He loved his mother's laugh.

He dreamt about it almost every night.

And to hear it now. It was…

Something else.

"Actually, I can. With all the crazy stuff you go through, talking to dead people doesn't seem like a big deal." His mother finished, putting her hand near his cheek.

Stiles couldn't feel his mother's warm skin on his. He realized she could go through him and all he could feel from her was a cold chill. He didn't realize that he had let out a childish sounding sob. "It is to me."

His mother could see that this was freaking him out. "How could you-when did you?"

Stiles brain clicked and turned until it halted with an answer, "I-" he shook his head, "There was this orb thing yesterday and I touched it because for some insane and inane reason I thought I could help it, but I guess it just transferred its power to me? I mean, if this is what it can actually do. I was going to check it out after school but…" He looked at his mom's eyes.

She didn't look sick.

She looked like she had before she gotten the cancer.

Long curly dark hair, full rosy cheeks, and dark painted lip. He used to hate her lipstick color because it would rub off on his cheek, but after she passed he kept a tube of it under his bed along with her perfume. She had the dress she was buried in-her favorite: a blue and white polka dot wrap dress.

"Mom?" He didn't even care to stop the tears from falling.

His mom moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. He knew she couldn't really hug him and all he felt from her hug was coldness, not the usual warm and coco channel perfume he had grown accustomed to when he was growing up.

He still felt her love for him though.

And that was the only thing that really mattered right now.


	2. Chapter 2

He wanted to stay home and talk to his mother, but she insisted that he go to school since she had to watch over his father .

"I'll come by soon. I promise. I'm never too far away from you when you need me." She promised as she "sat" next to him in his jeep, parked right outside of his school.

"I guess you around me more often now, huh?" Stiles tried to joke, he could feel his chest tighten over the thought of his mother trying her best to watch out for him as he fought against Peter, Jackson, Michael, and (of course) Derek. He had to admit, he probably was causing his mom more of a panic attack now versus when he did when he was little.

"I don't know who to be afraid for more, you or your father. You both are involved with things that can hurt you." His mother sighed as she started to evaporate, "I'll be back, I promise."

He never doubted his mother when she was alive.

So why doubt her now?

He had gotten some info from her on his drive to school. Things like she couldn't be in two places at once, that she had limited power: meaning that were some things she couldn't protect him from.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hurt Matt when he let Jackson hurt you." His mother seethed as she recalled the memory.

"So why couldn't you?"

"There are just times were you just have to let things happen in order for the world to continue. Everything is already written and there is only so much things you can change from the afterlife. I've stopped lots of things from happening to you and your father."

Stiles bit his lip, he felt guilty after his mother died because part of him knew he had killed her.

But knowing that he was causing her grief and worry in the afterlife pained him more.

"But I know that there are some situations that have to happen in order for you and father to move on."

Stiles didn't want to say that he and his dad were moving on, but were just ignoring the big fat elephant in the room that was no doubt growing bigger with each passing day.

As his mom had promises, she returned to him during history class. Stiles let out a muffled squeal as his mom stood beside him.

"You can talk to me telepathically if you want. No one can hear me besides you." His mother informed him.

Stiles let out a telepathic snort, '_Or you know see the dead people walking around school. How many people have freaking died here?_!' Stiles asked her, he was beyond freaked out and scared as he walked to each of his classes and noticed ghosts drifting past him. A few had realized that they could be seen by him.

Stiles noticed that some had died years ago (_God, how bad were the clothes in the 60s and 70s_?) and others not too long ago. He recognized a few from old year books.

"There a lot of people who have unfinished business and some just revel in the good years."

She saw the sour look on Stiles face.

"Or are haunted by the nightmare that is high school." She sighed as Stiles massaged his head. She brushed her fingers through his hair or at least tried too. Stiles couldn't help but wince as he felt his mother phase through him.

The cold chill eased him a width of a toothpick.

"Mr. Stilinski, are you feeling alright?" His history teacher asked, looking slightly worried.

Alison turned to look at him and frown.

_(Did he look pale or something?)_

Stiles cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

He winced again, his voice sounded so rough and raw. He blinked back the tears and nodded his head, "Just a migraine. Sorry." He added quickly, casting his eyes down to his work sheet.

"Alright. But if you start to feel ill, please speak up." His teacher duly noted and returned to the lesson at hand.

"I have to admit, when you were little you used to complain about your teachers not liking you. Didn't really believe it until I saw how Harrison and your coach were treating you." His mom shook her head and smiled. "How is it that you manage to get yourself into all sorts of trouble?"

'_Trouble? I'm just an innocent_-' his mother 'look 'stopped him from continuing (_He missed the 'look' she would give him when he would get into trouble_) and smirked playfully. '_Innocent looking? At least give me that! I mean I can't pull of that sad puppy eyes look like Scott. That sounds weird now considering what he is and also so wrong since puppies are cute and can't rip your throat out_.'

His mom waited a beat. God bless that woman for having the patient of well, an…(_Angel?(yeah, sure why not? The patience of an angel_.)) "I've came to a conclusion that they are just jealous of your brain."

'_And my face, you can't admit I don't have a pretty face_.' Stiles quipped, knowing he looked like an idiot smiling at nothing.

"And your face." His mom agreed, smiling back proudly.

(_He missed her. Truly missed her_.)

'_I know we covered this on the car ride here, but explain it to me again how you don't count as an angel. I mean you said you protected dad and me every day; doesn't that count as a guardian angel? At least? Or does God have ranks_?'

"Guardian angels are sent out to those who don't have love ones on the other side protecting them, they are for people who shouldn't meet with the angel of death but occasionally have brush in."

Stiles was beginning to get the hang of this After Life Political Ranking stuff. As far as his mom could explain, no one passing to the other side actually met God. They weren't really sure if God actually existed (_Oh the 700 Club would have a freaking hissy fit if they knew that_!), they were usually meant with angels who told them where they were staying or they were given options if they truly didn't have any unfinished business: stay on earth and protect your love ones or move on.

'_So can ask you another question_?'

"Stiles, don't you have to focus on your school work? Pretend I'm not here."

Stiles actually turned to face his mom. '_I could never do that. Especially not now_.'

His mom bit her lip, "I'll answer one more question, and then you go back to paying attention in class."

'_Alright, fine. Just so you know, there's like a twenty percent that I would pay attention, even if you …and her,: _He jutted his chin slightly at the ghost of a middle age woman, (_50s, definitely from the 50s. (Hair that high should be illegal.) "Weren't here in front of me_. _What happens to the people who were evil or did bad stuff, liking killing or what not?'_

She took a deep breath (_Again, "deep breath" wasn't the best words to use. She couldn't actually breath_), "People who kill for fun or for revenge or in anger don't go to hell. At least not the kind we think of when we are alive. Those who truly kill and have no conscience or guilt about it live out their own personal hell." She paused for a moment, looking as if she were fighting with her inner demon (_That just sounded weird now_!).

"I'll show you what I mean after school."

Stiles frowned at his mother's wavering voice. Clearly she had seen someone going through their own personal hell. He nodded slowly; ignoring the odd looks he was given. '_Uh, just one more thing? How come you_-'

"Stiles, _focus_."

Stiles pouted, ignoring the odd looks Alison was giving him. '_Fine, fine. Not like I haven't learned and studied the fall of the Soviet Union before or anything_.'

"Gemin!" His mother hardly ever used his given name. Except when he was in trouble with her (_Which was rare.)_

He knew he would wince at that. He hated it when his mom would call him that. He felt like a three year old again being scolded her.

It was really annoying whenever his mom call him that.

But now…

He didn't mind it so much.

He smiled at her and went back to listening to his teacher, not caring to respond to Allison asking him if he was alright.

"Scott, I love you. You know that? So what I'm about to say means really nothing. But if you could please, stop sniffing me in the school parking lot."

Stiles knew that Scott's sense of smell was crazy good. Good to the point where it freaked Stiles more than the whole werewolf thing did.

He was used to it, being sniffed out by Scott if he all of a sudden changed his cologne or body wash _(Stiles from then on had to make sure that he told or text Scott about the change (No more sniffing at school, got it?)) _or if his father decided to buy a different laundry detergent.

It shouldn't have surprised him that Scott could smell the difference with him.

He just didn't expect it to such a strong and palpable scent difference.

"Dude, what the hell?" Scott asked after school had ended. He had gotten a few texts from Allison warning him about Stiles behavior. "Allison told me you were acting weird in class. I thought you over did it on the Adderall again. But now…" he took a big whiff of Stiles' neck and growled.

Stiles jumped back and made a face. He looked around the parking lot and noticed the odd and amused looks on some of his classmates' faces. "Okay two things. Ease up on the werewolf growling. I don't need you to go feral in broad day light at school and two, and mostly importantly: No more sniffing me."

He could hear his mother laugh at them.

He never was much of a glarer. Never could pull of the 'I'm-the-big-ass-evil-dude-who's -going -to-glare-at-you-till-your-face-melts'. (_The winner and all around champion of that was definitely Derek Hale (And the crowd pees in their pants as they run in fear_)

'_Would you please? This isn't funny_.' Stiles pleased with his mother. Sounding more like a three year old than ever.

She was still laughing. "I'm sorry. It's just you two were always cute together. It's like watching two puppies fighting over a toy bone."

'_That would sound cute if it wasn't for the fact that Scott can actually turn into a werewolf' _Stiles thought as he tried not to grit his teeth in annoyance, more at Scott than his mother. The same Scott who was still freaking sniffing him.

"Dude, again. Stop with the sniffing. Do not make me bring out the spray bottle!" Stiles stepped back to let some space between them.

"You did it again." Scott's eyes zeroed in on Stiles. "You kept looking somewhere else. It's like you're here but you're not really here."

Stiles opened his mouth and closed it again. He hated to admit it, but he did find Scott pretty dumb at times. And other times-completely off the charts smart.

He sort of wished now would be one of those times. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Scott pouted, "You're lying to me? Since when have you ever lied to me?" he sounded truly hurt.

"You know I don't think you have ever lied to Scott before, much less hidden anything from him." His mother stated sounding both intrigued and amused. "You two are so much like real brothers."

Stiles didn't notice he wasn't looking at Scott till Scott flicked his forehead. "Dude, are you even listening?"

"What? Yeah, I'm totally listening! You don't have to worry buddy. I'm here, alright?"

Scott sighed and stepped closer to his best friend, "You're lying to me again."

Stiles bit his lip, he hated lying to Scott. Of all the people in the universe, he had never been dishonest with Scott.

But explaining that you can see and talk to ghost seemed like an impossible discussion to have. _(Even with your best friend who happens to be a werewolf…(Alright, I'm lying to myself. Can't I just keep the fact I can talk to my mom a secret for a while?)_

"Stiles, if something is wrong you can tell me. You know that."

"Nothing is wrong Scott. Okay? Look, I just took one too many pills and I've been staring at the computer a lot more now. It's nothing."

Stiles hoped he had on his best "I'm perfectly 100% great" and "End of Discussion" face on.

"Really? Then why do you smell like death?"

((_Okay, so totally was not expecting that as a response_))

Stiles reeled back and flinched; he looked around and ran his fingers through his hair. Extremely put off and scared now, he took a chance to look at his mom-who looked just as put off.

"Wait? I smell like death?"

Scott nodded.

"Like bunnies dying death smell? Because I hang out with you guys a lot. It could be just the-"

Scott cut him off (_Stiles didn't miss the eyes changing colors_) "No, you smell like death. Like actual people dying. But it's weird."

"It gets _weirder_?!"

Scott rolled his eyes and pushed Stiles farther from a group of students who decided to make the parking lot their spot to chit-chat. "Yes it gets weirder. Does that honestly surprise you?"

Stiles shrugged, "You wouldn't think so but…" he waved his hands, wanting Scott to continue on.

"You smell like death, but like good death."

"Good death?" Stiles guffawed, "There's a good death? No one has ever used the adjective "good" or any other words synonymous with good to describe death before, Scott." Stiles had to give it to himself, he could definitely pull of "being hysterical" to a T.

He could feel his mom getting nervous.

And now not only was he starting to attract attention from his classmates but all of the wondering ghosts in the school parking lot as well.

_((Great_…))

Scott lowered his voice, "I just mean that you smell like death-"

Stiles shook his head. "Again, not at all comforting to hear."

"You smell like death, but also sort of like hope?" Scott face scrunched up.

"Hope? I smell like hope?" Stile let out a breath, completely incredulous about Scott's description.

"I-It's hard to explain, but you smell like peace." He growled in frustration, "Look, it's just that you smell like death but also something calming. I don't know how else to explain, but it's definitely creeping me out."

'_Half part creepy and half part pretty cool considering I get to actually see dead people' _Stiles thought to himself, not knowing his mom could hear his private thoughts as well.

"Part of me was actually hoping that you would make some sort of reference or joke about that movie." His mother bit her lip in order not to laugh. She rested her hands on Stiles' shoulder, "We should go. I want you back home in time to be with your dad."

'_I still need to give him a reason though…I don't like lying to Scott_.'

"Leave that to me." His mom whispered. He could feel something cold go through him.

"If you want the honest trust Scott…I was at the cemetery."

"Why?"

Stile gave him a knowing look.

It took about five seconds for Scott to get it. "Oh, Oh! Crap, now I feel like an idiot."

"Just now you feel like an idiot? Because I hate to break it to you, there have been other times." Stiles quipped as he walked to his jeep along side with Scott.

"Why didn't you just tell me then that you were visiting your mom then?"

"With everything going on I just needed some peace and quiet with her. I mean, you have the freaking pact to share everything with. Hell, even your mom knows half the crap we go through. My dad doesn't know anything yet and it's not like I can tell him or anything." He got into his car and started the engine.

"Wait, where are you going? We have lacrosse practice now."

"Ditching."

Scott shook his head, "You're ditching practice? You're MVP, you can't just ditch."

"Well first time for everything." He slammed the door, but Scott still held onto the door tight.

"And what about the pack meeting? You'll be there right?"

Stiles shrugged, "Not an actual pack member so I don't have to go. Derek should consider that an early birthday gift or something."

Scott sighed as he finally let go of the door, "Are you going to tell me where you're going?"

"Do I have to tell you where I'm going? God, it's not like you don't have about ten other people in your life that you can hang out with."

"Genim?" Stile's mom sounded worried and confused by the tone of his voice. Stiles rarely ever sounded bitter towards Scott, but he never once sounded angry at him.

Scott gaped at him, he looked like kick puppy _(Which of course was hysterically iron-(No, please, no more jokes right now)). _He walked back from Stiles. "Yeah, you're right. It's not like any of them are my best friend though."

Stiles nodded, he didn't feel too guilty about the outburst. He could feel his feelings, those God awful thoughts and feelings he had about Scott and the rest of pact simmering to the top. "Yeah, just one happens to be your girlfriend and one happens to be a big bad alpha werewolf who considers you to be his little brother." That sounded even angrier than the last and a whole lot bitter. Stiles didn't even wait for a response, "I gotta go. I'll talk to you whenever." He sped out quickly from the parking lot, ignoring the sharp sting of tears he refused to let fall.

"What was that?" Stiles asked, his hands clutching the steering wheels so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "I never get angry at Scott or snap like that. Not even when dad got hurt, and that's saying something! And by the way, what was with the whole cold tingling spine thing? It felt like you were-"

"Controlling you."

Stiles looked at her in disbelief.

"Eyes on the road." She warned.

Stiles did a double take at the road and her before shifting his eyes on the road again _(And yes, other drivers were noticing him talking to no one (Let's hope they think I'm using a hands free device)), _"You-you can control people? I thought you said you weren't an angel?! Why do you have powers like that?"

"I'm not an angel, just a phantom-a ghost really. But we do have some leeway given to us by angels. One of them being we can push our love one when they need it."

Stiles nodded.

"That didn't make any sense did it?" His mom asked, reading him very well.

He shook his head, "No not at all, can you try explaining it to me like I'm four? And where are we going exactly?"

"The Hale house."

Stiles looked back at her.

"Stiles, look at the road, please."


	3. Chapter 3

He shook his head, "No not at all, can you try explaining it to me like I'm four? And where are we going exactly?"

"The Hale house."

Stiles looked back at her.

"Stiles, look at the road, please."

"O-Okay. Right." He tapped his fingers against the wheel. He could only imagine the ghosts still living at the Hale house. ((_Wait a God damn minute_)) "You said you were going to show me what happens to people who were evil after they passed. Why are we going to the Hale house? What did they do?"

"Nothing. It's not anyone of them."

"Okay…And about the whole 'pushing our love ones'?"

"When we-people who have passed on and are watching their love ones-see our family or friends in problems, whether it's a life or death problem or a problem where we used to comfort them about when we were alive, we can take control of their emotions or thoughts. We don't always have full access to do it and we can only really do it if that person asks for us."

Stiles thought back to every situation where he all of sudden felt cold, "I-You, you've done this before then? To me?"

"Yes. Because you were asking me to help you. I guess the only reason why he couldn't tell that you were lying about where you were going was because I was talking for you." She glanced out at the scenery passing them by, "Guess that's the one perk about not having a heart beat." She said wistfully, not noticing Stiles face flinch at the mention of his mom no longer having a working heart.

Stiles finally lost the war he was fighting with his tears and let them fall, making his vision even more bleary. "Way to trigger the mess of feeling and emotions."

His mom winced; she hated to see him cry.

That was why he couldn't be in the hosp_-((No! We are not thinking or bringing that up!))_

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much you were holding back."

"Yeah, I mean you weren't there during the panic attacks and mental breakdowns, right? You wouldn't know."

The pause in the conversion made the tension thicker. Stiles pulled his jeeps over and set the car in park hard. He didn't have to look at his mom to know she was crying. "I'm-I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did. But it's okay."

Stiles felt the last of his composure break, "No, it not okay." He punched his steering wheel hard and groaned as the short sound of the horn startled some passer bys. "I-I should have been there more. With you. Instead of playing video games or riding my stupid dirt bike." He rested his head against the steering wheel, he could feel his chest tighten as the feeling of guilt and hate that he had buried in the back of his subconscious came to the surface. "I should have been there."

He could feel a chill on the back of his head.

"I didn't want you to be there. I didn't want you to be there, ten year old you, this innocent energetic adorable boy of mine, to be there while I died."

Stiles sniffed, rubbing the tears away as they continued to fall.

"Stiles, you didn't kill me. I know that's what you believe but it's the not the truth."

"I was driving you and dad crazy though. I could never sit, I was fighting with other kids-"

His mom cut him off, her voice ladled with disbelief that her only child could ever harm her, "You were a kid. You were doing the things that I and your father wanted you to do."

"I could have done something, you see kids hold lemonade stands for cancer for God's sake, that could have been me."

His mom cupped his cheek, the chill made him feel a bit worse. "You made me smile and laugh. Even on the days where I just wanted to give up on everything and everyone."

Stiles laugh came out bitter and harsh. All the emotions and pain he had harbored and let fester began to pour out as he continued to cry. "I'm so sorry…" he sniffed again, wiping the snot of his sleeve (_it was a habit his mother had tried tremendously to break, even doing it now made him want to apologize again_).

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

Stiles bit his lip hard, feeling the metallic tang of blood did little to calm him down. "You know what really kills me? I never had the chance to say goodbye. I honestly thought you would get better. Like you would one day just get up, hair all back in place and walk away from that stupid hospital bed." He rubbed his face, hating the fact he had cried more in one day than he had in the last five years. "I honestly didn't believe dad when he told me. I thought he was joking, this horrible evil joke." He looked back at his mom with a sad smile, "I thought- I knew that you would walk back in my room, yelling at me to clean it up so that we could play basketball in the yard. I just kept myself _she'll be back. She's just buying me presents_." Stiles let out a half sob and laugh. He punched his steering hard causing a slight crack on the front.

"We have another chance now though." His mom stated, she brushed her fingers with his not missing the face he made when her fingers went through his. "I-I know it's not ideal but it's better than nothing. I get the chance to see you and talk to you now. To tell you how proud I am of you. Of whom you have come to be and who you will be. I don't blame you for anything, not even more scaring me plenty of times when you go into the forest with Scott and Derek."

Stiles didn't say anything.

"That was my sad attempt of a joke." His mother smiled sadly. "I honestly don't know who got your sense of humor from."

Stiles signed, he could feel every knot and burn in his body as he rested his head back and looked at his mom. "You always made me laugh when I didn't want to. Dad, he tried to and everything but-"

His mom giggled, "Your dad always told the cheesiest jokes."

Stiles laughed a bit, "Yeah, remember that one joke he told during Thanksgiving. I think I was like eight or something and he had the whole family crying from laughing so hard."

His mom laughed loudly, "Oh my God! Yes! I never saw my mom's face turn red like that from laughing so hard. Too bad he ripped the joke from that comedian special on television."

Stiles smirked, "Yeah, if we have learned anything, the internet can and will reveal people as frauds."

His mom laughter brought back some feeling into his body, shooting through his fingers and toes. "You wanna know something horribly sad?" Stiles after a while, they were back on the road.

"Hmm?"

"I used to think your cousin, Alfie, was such a freaking loser. A twenty-something loser living in his mother' s basement. After you died, I honestly would have done anything to be him, a sad twenty-something loser living with his mother." He laughed as he remembered his little old ten year old self growing jealous as he watched his mother's aunt and cousin hug and hold hands during his mother's funeral service.

The first thing Stiles was not expecting when he and his mom got out of the jeep was to hear a woman call out "Lyssa!"

He could feel his eyes bug out as he saw the woman-a ghost, really- approach them. She was tall and curvy, her black hair cut short in a bob and had on a black sweatshirt and jeans. Her greens eyes were sharp and focused.

Like a wolf…

(_No- this is so not…(No freaking way!))_

This was…

"Donna." His mother greeted the other woman warmly as she approached the woman with open arms. _(No, Stiles was not jealous that Derek's mom could hug his mom(I am so not not jealous)). "_How are you?"

Donna shrugged, arms wrapped around herself tightly. "Alright." She looked at Stiles, finally realizing that Stiles was looking directly at her. "Lyssa?" Donna looked between him and his mom. "When?"

"Since this morning. He must have ran into a spirit orb." His mom informed Donna, looking around the woods. "Stiles, I want you to meet Donna Hale. Derek's mother."

Donna smiled warmly, "No need for introductions. I've been around Stiles for awhile now. You're a great asset to the pack."  
Stiles and his mom answered in unison, "I'm not part of the pack" "He's not part of the pack."

Donna rolled her eyes and smiled at his mom. ((_God, that freaking toothy smile is inherited_)) "I don't understand why you won't let him be part of it. Jacob and I agree he has the making of a great alpha."

Stiles wasn't focusing so much on the 'great alpha' part as much as his mom was. "Who's Jacob?"

"Donna, I don't want my son tied up with werewolves or any other supernatural beings. Remember?"

Stiles looked between them, "Who's Jacob?"

Donna nodded her head and waved her hands, clearly this was a old conversation between the two. "I know, I know. You don't want him to live like that. But we both know he already has a major role in this-"

Stiles cleared his throat loudly, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but seriously this is killing me now. Who's Jacob?"

Donna looked at him with a stern expression, "My husband, Derek's father."

"And his name is Jacob?"

"Yes."

Stiles heard his mom groan, "Stiles, please don't."

"His name is Jacob and he's a werewolf?"

"Yes." Donna repeated, this time more stern.

Stiles opened his mouth and closed it again. He bit his lip from smiling too much. "You know what? I'm gonna stay far away from that one. _Way_ too easy."

"Mama, mama!" Stiles turned around to see a little girl, at the most five or six years old, with light brown hair and in pajamas, clutching a small plush doll. She ran straight for Donna, who picked her up and settled her on her hip. "Derek is being mean again."

"Derek?" Stiles looked at her. He remembered the list of victims of the Hale house. The youngest on the list was a girl named "Mackenzie? You're Mackenzie, right?"

The little girl looked wide eyed at Stiles and buried her face into her mother's neck. "Mama!" she whined, she shyly looked at Stiles again before covering her face with her hands.

"You remember Stiles, right sweetie?" Donna asked her daughter. She looked at Stiles and smiled, "She always gets super excited when you are around. I think she has a little-"

Mackenzie covered her mom's mouth; "Mama!" the little girl's cheeks were glowing red now.

Stiles chuckled. He had a really hard time imagining a Hale member liking him. He was sort of thankful though that Mackenzie and he couldn't date, for one thing Derek already hated him for no other reason. He could only imagine the pain Derek would have caused him if he was dating his little sister. ((_Oh dear God, the bruises_!))

"It's nice to meet you Mackenzie. And can I say that is one cute little plush toy you got there." Stiles pointed to the black wolf plush with blue eyes. "It's not as cute as you though."

"Derek made it for me!" she squealed, her cheeks reddening ever more now. She stretched out the toy to Stiles as if he could really take it.

Stiles smiled widely, the imagine of Derek sewing a plush toy for his baby sister warmed his heart and gave him more material than he needed to tease the sour wolf the next time he saw him.

Stiles was about to respond when he saw a figure clocked in black behind Donna and Mackenzie. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"The reason why I brought you here." his mother answered. "You see it?"

Stiles nodded, he felt scared of it. He could feel his bones weaken and his heart rate quicken as the figure circled around two trees that he could have sworn where never there before. That's when he finally noticed her.

"Oh my God, Kate." He wheezed as he recognized the woman tied by chains to the trees. Her clothes tattered, torn, and covered in blood. She looked like a mess with her eyes glossed over and dark.

"What-what's it doing to her?"

Donna looked at him, "Looks familiar to you?"

It took of few seconds for Stiles, remembering every lesson he had learned about Greek mythology. "Prometheus?"

"Exactly." Donna answered, smiling a bit as she looked at Kate. "Not exactly an eagle picking out your liver every day, but I greatly prefer this."

Stiles was starting to get where Derek got his creepy factor from. He didn't feel sorry for Kate at all. He knew it was wrong not to feel sorry for her. But deep down he felt that she…

Well, she deserved it.

He could hear her moans and cries, "What's it doing to her?"

"Her own personal hell. Think of like a Tartarus. She has to live through every murder she's ever committed and watch her own family die as well." His mother answered him emotionlessly, "She's going to be bonded to those two trees forever, watching her whole life fall apart again and again."

Stiles frowned for a moment, "Wait, what about Matt? Is he tied-?"

His mom nodded sympathetically and Stiles lets out a silent "Wow." He hated Matt, never liked him from the get go. But he had a hard time not understanding why Matt had so much hate for his victims. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Matt, he could only imagine the hell the kid had to be going through now: being tied in body of water watching all the crimes you have committed being played out over and over again.

"And the creepy black floating thing?"

Donna and his mom both stepped back in unison. Any other time Stiles would find it funny, but the fear written on their faces makes him hold back his laughter. "My bet is half grim reaper and have furries, but neither one of us aren't fond or curious enough to get near enough to see." Donna explained while Mackenzie looked on adoringly at Stiles.

"All those things that go bump in the night? I think he might be one of them." Stiles nodded at the thing again. His mother shivered and stepped closer to him. "Does anyone know what those are?"

"No and we don't care enough to ask. We know why there here and that enough for us." His mother informed him rationally. She looked at Donna with a slight panic look and then at Mackenzie, "Sweetie, where did you say your brother is?"

Stiles already knew what Mackenzie was going to say before she said it. "In the house."

"Oh my god!" Stiles groaned, he shouldn't be surprised at all (but of course he jumps like he's been jumped in a dark alley) when Derek pops out of nowhere and barks.

"Stiles! What the hell are you doing here?"

Stiles wavers a bit, wondering how much of the conversation Derek had heard between the moms and Mackenzie. He usually could up with a clever lie. But considering Derek at supernatural abilities that could detect when he was lying…

_((I am screwed!))_

"Stiles!" Derek barked again walking closer to him now. Stiles couldn't but notice how Derek had the same creepy focus eyes like his mom and the same cheek bones like Mackenzie (Mackenzie and Derek must of gotten a majority of their looks from Jacob).

"I just needed to check something out." That wasn't a lie; he wanted to know what someone's punishment would be in the afterlife.

"Who were you talking to?" Derek asked, his green eyes lost a bit of maliciousness.

Stiles pointed to himself, "Talking to? Who was I talking to? To myself of course. I'm by myself here." Stiles bit back his idea he got to let Derek sniff the air around him to make sure that they were the only ones around till he remembered he reeked of "death and hope".

"You said Mackenzie." Derek stated simply.

Stiles cursed to himself. "I-I did?"

"You know you did and seeing that your dad is the sheriff and you're a nosey teenager, I don't doubt that you know that Mackenzie is the name of my little sister." Derek seethed, sounding more like a bad ass big brother than a bad ass werewolf.

"Maybe you heard something that sounded like Mackenzie?" Stile pleaded with his heart to slow down.

Derek rolled his eyes, "No. You said Mackenzie." He grabbed onto Stiles shirt and pulled him closer, baring his sharp fangs. "And I want to know why."

"Really? Haven't we passed the whole "Derek gets to eat Stiles" threats already?"

"No. We haven't."

Stiles watched in horror as Derek caught a whiff of the "death and hope" smell on him. Derek's eyes zeroed in on his, "Stiles, why-"

Derek didn't get the chance to finish his question; a loud smash erupted from inside the Hale house scaring the both of them away from each other.

Derek looked at the house and then back at Stiles as if he had caused it. He pointed at the younger boy, "Do not move."

Stiles stood perfectly still till Donna told him "Run, now."

"He's going to kill me!"

Mackenzie smiled, "That means you can play with me then."

Stiles smiled and pouted at once, it was a sweet thought that terrified him to the bones. "That does sound like fun."

Donna pointed to his jeep and pushed his mom and him (_again, push is not the right word here_), "Laura gave you guys enough time to run so go!"

Stiles was already buckling in when he heard his mother mutter, "It's not like your son can't track down Stiles or anything."

Stiles loved his mother so much sometimes.

Once they were on the road Stiles asked his mother, "What do you think the chances are that Derek will forget what just happened?"

His mom huffed out, "I would make sure you lock all the bedroom windows and doors when you get home."

Stiles pouted and was already imagining Derek bashing his face into a door, or his computer, or his wall.

_(Pretty much whatever Derek had planned as punishment, there was going to be lots of pain for Stiles.) _

He looked at his mother who looked confused and worry, "What? What's wrong? Is Derek following us or something?" Stiles looked around widely for any sight of the alpha wolf.

His mother's doe eyes went wide, "Stiles, stop the jeep!" she yelled two minutes before Stiles saw Peter ran past him in a hurry followed by something chasing after him.

Whatever _it_ was.

_It _seemed pretty angry.

Stiles looked at his mom who already knew what he was going to do.

"Genim," her voice sounding as parental as ever, "Don't you even-"

But it was too late, Stiles was already out of his jeep and was running into the woods to follow after him. Stiles finds the two deep in the woods, Peter is already wolfed out and slashing at the thing, it was tall and wide with what looked like sharp blood stain teeth jutting up from its face (_Or what Stiles hoped was a face_). Stiles got closer to the two as they continued to fight and memorized the physical appearance of the creature (a dragon like body covered with black feathers and pointy ears). Stiles was ready to step back and to go call Derek when he saw the thing raise its claw at now down Peter.

"HEY!" Stiles yelled without meaning to.

_(Why did he care so much to save Peter's life? (Why do I do dumb things that could get me killed?))_

"Stiles?" Peter asked in confusion as the thing now turned to Stiles, almost unimpressed. As if the thing could tell he was just a human being.

The thing set its sights on Peter again until the wind shifted, letting it get a good whiff of Stiles' scent.

Peter smirked as the things eyes (wide and white) opened and looked dead on at Stiles. Stiles could only freeze on site as the thing slowly slid closer to him, teeth turn slightly up in a demonic smile. The creature was only a foot away till his mother stepped in, glowing like moon.

The creature froze on the spot and wavered. Could he not see Stiles' mom? The creature looked back at Peter and then at Stiles before it released an agonizing blood curdling scream that made Stiles almost pee his pants.

Stiles fell back on the tree behind him and slunk low to the ground after the thing flew off into the sky, "What the hell was that thing?" he wheezed as mother crouched down next to him to look him over and calm him down.

Peter morphed back into his human self and slowly got up from the ground, "That was a Nalusa Falaya, also known as a Shadow Demon."

Stiles grasped onto the tree as his breathing continued to be labored, "What did you to do it?"

Peter looked at him in mock annoyance, "Now why would you assume that I did something to it?"

"Yeah, you're right. You're freaking Mr. Congeniality. No one in their right mind would want to hurt you." Stiles answered, not sounding or looking dangerous with his inhaler in his hands. He took two deep breaths of his medication and relaxed as he began to breath normally again.

Peter shrugged, "Nalusa and I are old friends."

"Who try and kill each other?" Stiles asked incredulously. "That makes sense. Scott and I have a knife fight at least twice a week. Winner gets to keep loser's phone for a month."

Stiles continued to ramble on, not feeling or seeing his mother freeze in fear besides him. "Stiles, run. Now." His mother urged as Peter walked closer, his eyes glowing with mirth and curiosity.

"What's so different about you today Stiles?"

**So this is what happens when you try to write a fanfic for a fanfic contest.**

**You over write. I knew I couldn't write anything under 3000 words!**

**Reviews are highly appreciative.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

"What's so different about you today Stiles?"

Stiles fumbled as he got up, almost missing the tree to fall back on. "Me? Nothing, nothing at all."

Peter shook his head knowingly, "No." he pointed his finger at him, "No, there _is_ something different about you today." Peter had him corned now against the tree and it was taking all of Stiles willpower not to scream for help. "You smell different." Peter smiled wickedly as he smelled Stile's neck.

Stiles refused to shake and begged his heart again to calm down, "New body wash. That ninety-nine cents stuff wasn't cutting it." He gritted as Peter rolled his eyes.

"You know what I always regretted, Stiles?" Peter asked sweetly as he ran his fingers through Stile's buzz cut gingerly, "That I bit Scott and not you. Imagine you as my beta; I think you and I would have made a wonderful team. We do usually make a wonderful team." Peter stated earnestly.

Stile could see his mother's brown eyes go black. "Get away from my son Peter" she growled, sounding more like a wolf than human if possible. Stiles noticed more ghosts walking towards them, each of their eyes blacked out like his mother

Peter frowned and stepped back.

Stiles wondered for a moment if he was truly going to kill him, but instead Peter laughed. "There is something different about you. Not just your smell, _you're_ different." Peter's eyes turned blue for half a second and smiled again. "I'll see you real soon Stiles." He waved before transforming back into a werewolf and running off.

Stiles waited three seconds before he vomited his lunch and breakfast behind the tree.

"I hate that man." He heard his mom whispered as she glared in the direction that Peter ran off too.

Stiles wiped his mouth with sleeve and spat out the sour taste still in the back of his throat. "Join the growing club." He nodded in the same direction, "That Nalusa thing should be the president."

Stiles looked at the others ghosts, five of them- all of different ages and race. "What was with the demonic eyes thing?"

"It's a type of a possession ability we ghosts have when we need to scare someone off." The ghost of an old hippy looking man answered him. "Usually if you have enough ghosts to pull it off you can scare off an entire army." He yellow stained teeth scared Stiles just a bit; he looked at his mom who looked just as confused.

"Hmm, he's not a median. At least I don't think so." Mused a young girl with long braided hair. Her dark cocoa skin blotched as she realized what Stiles could be, "He's a spirit keeper?" she said in shock backing away from Stiles. "How did you get your powers? There hasn't been a human being who could see and talk to us in centuries!"

Stiles looked at the ghost in disbelief, "You just mentioned medians?! Don't medians talk to dead people all the time?"

"They can't really see us all at once, they can get only speak to one spirit at a time and the messages come and go." The old man studied him for a while, "Something tells me kid that you ran into a spirit orb?"

Stiles nodded his head wordlessly.

The old man looked at rest of the ghosts and arched his caterpillar brows, "I thought so." He nodded at Stiles' mom, "You better make sure your boy knows what he's getting himself into. There are a lot of things that come out in the dark."

Stiles huffed and rubbed his head in frustration, "Trust me; I know that for a fact."

Stiles' mom looked at the sky and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We need to go, now." She urged as she thanked the rest of the ghosts and led the way back the jeep.

"Wait, why do we have to go?"

His mom looked at his watch, "Because your dad is going to be home in half an hour and Derek is on his way here."

Stiles clapped his hands together and pointed at his jeep, "And we are out of here." He waved at the other ghosts and thanked them (uneasily).

He had made it to the house twenty minutes before his father did, giving him enough time to wash his hands and cook up whatever they had in their cabinets.

("_How you managed to get your father to eat steamed halibut and broccoli is beyond me." His mom said in awe as she stood by the counter watching Stiles make a simple salad. "The only way I could get that man to eat anything green was if loaded it with butter and salt or between two flanks of steak."_

"_You just have to hit him where it hurts which happens to be our health insurance coverage…" Stiles smirked as went to check on the brown rice simmering in the pot behind him)_

By the times Stiles was ready to sleep his father had been called away to a possible crime scene and his mom went along to guard him.

"You're not going to tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?" Stiles teased as he got into bed, hearing his father patrol car pull out the drive way.

His mother smiled sweetly and "kissed" him on his forehead. Stiles was starting to find comfort in the chill touches now.

"We'll be back soon." She promised, evaporating in front of him. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Stiles' dreams were usually unfocused and incoherent as his thoughts were during the day. But this time he dreamt of mother and father, still living happily together in their house. He and Scott playing video games while Lydia and Allison tried to do their homework.

Stiles felt something cold and tight grip his chest like a vice. His dream started to dissipate in front of him. "_No!"_

"_Stiles! Wake up!_" His mom yelled, her voice made him feel like he was being thrown into icy water.

He shot up in his bed and found a pair of glowing blue eyes and a sadistic smile looking down at him.

"P-Peter." Stiles crawled further back into his bed until his back hit the headboard. Peter stood crouched on the foot of his bed. "How the hell did you get into my house?"

Peter's sadistic smile grew wider as he nodded towards Stiles' bedroom window. "Came through the window or otherwise known as the Derek door, right?"

Stiles didn't take the bait.

"What do you want?"

"It occurred to me as to why you all of a sudden smell so new…so different and familiar." Peter cocked his head to the side, "I'm sort of surprised that my hard headed nephew couldn't figure it out, but then again between you and me, he never was good at realizing things quickly enough. Otherwise he would have made you a werewolf ages ago."

"Well, you know with the whole talking and always being right thing, I think I would have driven him crazy like you are."

Peter chuckled at Stiles humorless remark, "You know, with a little time and a right mentor, you could be a great alpha pack leader." Peter slowly stood up and stepped down off the bed easily. "With your wit and cleverness and now your new ability to see and talk to the dead, you would be a great asset to any pack."

Stiles could feel his mom bristle in anger next to him. "I told you plenty of times Peter, _no_."

Peter pouted, "Is that what _you_ want or is that what your mommy wants?" he asked condescendingly, looking straight at Stiles mom.

_(Stiles couldn't tell if it was just a lucky guess or if Peter could really see or sense her)_

"You know _Elyssa_, one day I'm going to stop being polite and not care to ask Stiles whether he wants to be a werewolf or not."

"I have a hard time believing that you were ever polite Peter." Stiles mom gritted out.

Peter chuckled at the expression on Stiles face. "What did she say?"

Stiles cleared his throat; there really was no point in hiding his powers. Peter would know that he was lying. "She has a hard time believing that you were ever polite." He muttered weakly as Peter continued to look at his mom slyly.

"I bet Donna and Jacob have told you wonderful stories about little old me. Like the one time where Mackenzie and I made cookies for Santa and the Easter Bunny." He looked at Stiles, "Mackenzie loved bunnies, so whenever there was a holiday we would always have to add bunnies somewhere." He said light heartedly as if he and Stiles were old friends.

"You and I both know that you're not the same person anymore Peter. You may have survived the fire but we all know what ever humanity and decency you had back then didn't."

Stiles looked back and forth between his mom and Peter, if he didn't know any better he might have thought their fight was a deeply personal one.

Peter arched his brows at him, "Well? What did she say this time?"

Stiles repeated what his mother had said causing Peter to laugh again. "You know what? I do really admire your mother. So smart and clever." He looked at Stiles' mom again, "I can see where Stiles gets his brains from, Elyssa. You must be so proud." He slowly walked closer to his mom, "But you and I both know that sooner or later Stiles is going to become a werewolf. If I have anything to say about it." Peter smiled down at Stiles like a proud father.

Stiles could hear the blood pumping through his heart. He truly didn't believe that Peter was that crazy or stupid enough to bite him here and now.

_(Then again…)_

"Those new found powers of your Stiles, it's going to get you into so much trouble. Trouble that you could only handle if you're werewolf."

Stiles brown eyes darkened as he finally understood everything that had happened to him. "You were the one that injured the orb. You attacked it."

Peter smile didn't fade, he slowly clapped for Stiles. "And as always you figured it out."

Stile finally stood up, throwing the sheets in a pile at the foot of his bed. He could feel his anger and sadness combine as the smile on Peter's face fueled his urge to punch the insanity out of the dumb werewolf.

"That Nalusa was after you because you attacked the orb, right? What the hell were you planning? Did you think you could really cajole me into becoming a werewolf?"

Peter mulled over his answer, "Not really." He sighed and crossed his arms, "I had no intentions on you getting the orbs' power. I wanted its powers and was close to it before Isaac and Boyd crashed my little party. You just happened to come across it." He stepped closer to Stiles, who backed away quickly, hitting the back of his legs hard against his bed.

"I guess it saw something in you." Peter stated reasonably, "It chose you before it died. I didn't plan on it and I honestly had no idea that it could even choose its next predecessor. But it happened and I can't help but feel thankful that it chose you." He moved closer to Stiles until they were a breath away from each other. "This is the final time I'm offering you the bite Stiles, think of it as a mean of a protection from the evil spirit eaters and guides who will come after you now that they know who has a spirit orbs power."

"Get away from my son Peter or I swear to God that I'll make sure you never get a moment of peace for the rest of your life." Stiles mom whispered menacingly, her eyes turning black again.

Peter and Stiles both felt the air in the room change, the energy around them thickened and darkened as Stiles' room become warmer and darker. "Mom?" Stiles asked worriedly as he watched Peter start to twitch uncontrollably.

Peter's face contorted in half amusement and pain, "Nice going Elyssa. But that's not going to stop the rest of the shadow council from coming after your son. If you knew what was good for him you would let him get turned."

Stiles watched as his mom's eyes started to glow, her hair floating around her.

(_Well, Stiles was starting to understand why she didn't count as an angel officially._)

"Not on your life Peter." His mom voice was icy and heartless.

Peter looked at her, somehow understanding her without having to hear her. He looked down at Stiles with a sad and disappointed smile. "This is the last time I'm offering you the bite Stiles, the next time I see you, if you're still alive after the shadow council is through with you, I won't ask you for your permission." It sounded more like a promise than a threat. Peter waved goodbye with mock grandeur and jumped gracefully from Stile's bedroom window.

The room and Stiles' mom returned to normal, Stiles though was still shaken and green looking.

"You alright?" his mother asked after she came back from checking on her husband.

Stiles rubbed his face wearily; he could only imagine how the next run in with Peter would end. "What am I going to do?"

His mom eyed his computer, "This fully goes against my mothering belief." She sighed and walked over to his desk. "You have school tomorrow and I don't want you falling asleep, one hour of research about this shadow council."

Stiles rubbed his hands and popped a few Adderalls into his mouth, dry swallowing them in pain. "You don't know anything about them?" he asked his mom.

"Just that they are part guardians, I want to say that they don't have the same powers as angels, but they are hardly talked about to us ghosts."

Stiles locked his windows and sat down in front of his computer and turned it on, "Guess we got a lot of reading to do."


End file.
